The Start
by MarcoMacabre
Summary: The beginning of John and Sherlock's relationship, and the beginning of Hamish Watson-Holmes. The setting takes place long after Reichenbach. John and Sherlock are going on a case just like any other until they discover a boy that they become rather fond of. Parentlock
1. Chapter 1

"This…this is slaughter." The soft whisper was the first that broke the silence as the camera flashed and a piece of paper was placed. The blond haired male turned to look over at the taller male that was staring at the crime scene like it was nothing. That the blood that was literally everywhere was nothing to him. That the blood that was drip dropping on to the wooden boards was nothing to him. That the dark red liquid that was soaking savagely into the white coach was nothing. This was nothing to him as he took a step over the blood and towards one particular body. A lanky man with a square jaw, large forehead, slick black hair, mustache, business suit, platinum watch, married, faithful, happy. The details could go on and on, but Sherlock already knew who it was the moment they entered the flat. The family named Cabret. The one that had a family feud with another family named Georges. It was just something that had been going on for centuries as Sherlock knew about them just from the past criminal records both reported. Most fakes but there was occasional murder or candy napping. Sherlock thought as he turned swiftly over to Lestrade that was talking to his officers. Pointing to where they should take pictures of a small girl that was lying on the ground.

"Why did you bring me here? This seems self-explanatory." Sherlock questioned as he knew what had all happened. Killer had come in through the window in another room, most likely the bathroom, where he then went on his little killing spree. Killing the entire family along with what seemed the cousins, grandparents; all that seemed alive to him. Sherlock deducted as he turned to look at John that was still bewildered. The male was walking over to each victim to see how each had died. The two parents were bashed in the face with what seemed to be like a crowbar. The same looked over for the baby that was under the mother's body. The look over the baby though made John sigh and stand up. He couldn't look at it anymore. It was a terrible sight to see and even in the war he couldn't stand to see a child hurt. John thought as he brought a hand up over his eyes to try to soak in what was going around him. While Sherlock was just not fazed by the sight of death all around him. Death happened.

"John. There is a missing boy. Go find his body." Sherlock commented and the blond haired male looked over at Sherlock before raising an eyebrow. "They didn't find him?" Lestrade shook his head as he was in earshot of John as he walked over to Sherlock when he was asked where the boy was. He put his hands into his pocket as he looked over to the two partners. "No. He hasn't been found yet. There is a body lying next to the twin brothers upstairs that still needs to be identified so we presume he is dead." Lestrade stated as he then took out a handful of pictures from his pocket to hand over to Sherlock. "I called you over because we don't know who the killer is. We believe it's one of the Georges' but we are not entirely sure. There are no fingerprints, footprints, or any of the sorts. It was like he never existed." Lestrade pointed out as he was then pushed out of the way for Sherlock to do his work. He examined the bodies thoughtfully. Looking at the way the clothes were torn, were folded, and were curved. While John had seen that he wasn't needed and went to do what he was told.

Even though Lestrade said not to worry about it.

This was a kid. John was reminding himself as he started to walk up the stairs with his hand gently touching the railing to get a grip on himself. Who would do this to a bunch of kids? John wondered as his only thought was someone that was obviously sick and twisted. Someone that wouldn't care that a child hasn't done anything wrong nor even learned what he had done wrong. Barely even having a chance to go out and live the world. John thought as he quickly reminded himself that this is just what happens. Death happens. He couldn't stop it but yet he had to fight against it. If he thought about the horrors of the world his mind would crumble and he would fall. The blond haired male thought as he walked up the stairs to finally put his foot on the top of the stairs. His hand going off the railing as he headed towards the room.

Upon entering the first room he noticed that there was a mess but there wasn't any blood. The bed was tipped over, the lamp was broken and smashed, holes in the wall. What exactly happened? John wondered as he entered the room and turned around after shutting the door to see what was on the other side. Marks from the crowbar as it slashed against the wooden rectangle. John turned away as he didn't want to think as to why the murder would cause this much destruction but leave without a trace. What was this? He wondered as he walked over to the bed to pull it down on the ground. Was there any more clues? John questioned as he knew that it wasn't smart to tamper with the evidence but at this point he could really care less. But as he turned the bed down he noticed that there was a rip in the floor. Blinking confusingly he pushed the bed over to see what it was. Lifting the carpet with his pointer finger he saw that more of it pulled it. Grabbing it by the handful he pulled up and saw that under the carpet was a door. Getting down on one knee he pulled up the handle and turned around to go down the stairs. It was dark and he took out a small flashlight to wave around.

"Hello?" He called out once. "Hello?" He called out twice as all he saw were pieces of wood lying around. Giving up on the thought that there was no one there he took a step on the ladder and sat down on one of the steps. "Someone would have to be brilliant to have gone down here." He said out loud as he was thinking that if Sherlock was in the position as one of the kids he would of ran into here. John thought with a chuckle as he leaned back on the step just as there was a sound of shoes hitting concrete. Walking out into the open of John's flashlight there was a young boy. Thin. White. Bright azure eyes, black raven hair, a black double breasted coat, brown pants, brown boots with the laces all the way up. There was a cut on his forehead but beside that his physical appearance was fine.

"You think I'm brilliant?" The kid questioned while John was still shocked to say the least that there was someone down here. The kid? The kid! John thought as he ran over to the child and got down on one knee to touch the boy's face. As John got closer he could see that the boy looked…traumatized. "Are you alright? Do you need to go to the hospital?" John questioned as he reached up to touch the child's forehead. Pulling up on some of the child's bangs he felt him have a fever. Then he looked into the boy's eyes to see that they were dulling and dark circles were under his eyes. How long has he been down here? John thought as he stood up and picked the child up. "I have a fever and I haven't been eating for three days. I'm dehydrated and if I don't go to the hospital it will be life threatening." The boy answered as he rested his head on top of John's shoulder and just passing out in his arms. "Don't worry. I'm a doctor." He said as he knew that it was fatigue and malnutrion. Running over to the ladder he climbed up.


	2. Chapter 2

The room was brighter than staring into the sun. It blinded the young boy's vision as he first opened his azure eyes to look around him. He was on a hospital bed and wearing a standard white gown. The dark-haired male slowly sat up as he could faintly hear the yelling and mumbles coming from outside. There were flashes behind the curtains and that was the first thing that he noticed. Quickly he had figured out that he passed out in the nice man's arms and he ended up here. But what were the flashes behind the curtains? They were flickering; dancing behind the dark cloth that stood from his room to the hallway. Was his mind playing tricks on him? Was he going through some kind of stress? Was he going to be alright? The young male thought as he reached over with his right hand, the hand with the hospital bracelet, and touched the curtain to pull it back. Flash!

He was automatically blinded again where he placed his right wrist above his eyes to see what was going on but he just ended up focusing on his hearing where the yelling grew louder and he understood what they were saying. They were talking about him. The only living son of the Cabret slaughter. The only living son from the famous man, Henry Cabret. The only…His mind was starting to get dizzy again as he slowly let go of the curtain and fell back into someone's arms. Looking up he saw that it was the man from before. John was repeating that he got him, that he was going to be OK, that everything was going to be fine, and that the young boy just needed to rest. The traumatized boy simply nodded as the ex-solider picked him up to steadily, smoothly, gently put the young boy on the bed.

"Why are you here?" The boy whispered as he soon fell back into a deep sleep.

The blond haired male just smiled at the young male and then took a sigh. His smile fading as he himself did not know the reason why he was here either. Yet, he found himself not wanting to leave. That being here was just something that he was supposed to be doing at this time. He wasn't family, but it wasn't like the child had any family left to come to him. Perhaps that was why he was here. This child just had everyone who ever loved and cared for him slaughtered by some mad man. He was the only survivor of a terribly crime. The people out there were treating him like a piece of meat. Who could ever capture a picture of; 'The-boy-who-lived' would be paid the most money and would get their name known. Terrible. Just terrible.

"Are you ever coming home?" Asked a dark haired male as he walked into the room. The sound of pictures flying to capture something and the flashes made Sherlock look like he was blocking a fancy Christmas tree in London. His collar was upturned as he was hiding his face from the press and once he was in the room he shut the door with great force. Keeping it shut from the media as he went to take a seat next to John. John had chuckled as he looked up at his friend. "Soon. He awoke just a few hours ago but he almost collapsed from standing up." John commented as he looked over at the young boy's body. Sherlock kept silent for a moment as he looked over to John then over to the boy. A sigh escaped his lips as he sat back into his chair. His hands diving into his coat pockets.

"You stare at him as if you have known him your whole life." Sherlock commented and the blond haired male took his eyes off of the boy to look over at Sherlock. "What do you mean?" He questioned as he knew what Sherlock meant but he wanted some clarification as to why he would say something like that. The dark haired male then turned to look into John's eyes. "I think you want a child, John. So you stare at him like he is your own. You care for him more than any child that we have ever met." John's eyes widen and then he stared at Sherlock with a confused face. He was shocked that Sherlock would say something like that but it was also something that he had to take into thought. "I'm not. I'm not. He's just another kid from any other case. I don't have some maternal clock or something." John defended himself but Sherlock just gave him a skeptical look. Only after a few seconds did John look away from Sherlock.

They sat there in silence for a few minutes before John turned his attention back to Sherlock. "So what if I start to want to have a family Sherlock? I'm nearing forty years old. No kids. No wife." John replied as he bowed his head to look down at the tile and his shoes. "I'm just some old army doctor living with another man." John replied softly as he closed his eyes. While the dark haired man watched as John started to think about his life. He sighed and looked away from the man. "I could never understand why someone would want a wife. Kids I can understand because of multiple reasons. But not a wife." John then looked up sharply before turning his attention to Sherlock.

"Really? Out of all the things I said. That is the one you pick?" He questioned the other as it was odd that he picked the wife subject rather than the actual part that he was older, living with him, and even the kid part. Before Sherlock could retort there was movement on the bed and the boy had sat up. This time John had gotten up to come to the boy's side. He was sleeping in the chair before so he didn't realize that the boy had woke up until he was over by the cameras. "Is there anything you need?" John asked and the child nodded. "Water, please. I will need some soft food too." The boy answered and John nodded. "Alright. I'll be back. This is my friend Sherlock Holmes, and I'm John Watson."

After that John had left the boy looked over at Sherlock. They stared at each other for a few minutes. Neither one of them saying anything as they both didn't know what to say to each other. What does one say to an adult they must met? What does one say to a kid they just met? They questioned but both just ended up sitting in silence. Awkward and uncomfortable silence. It wasn't until the boy looked down at his hands that were resting on his knees did he say anything. He was looking away from Sherlock's gaze in fear that he was going to say something that he wasn't supposed to say, or he was going to make the other angry.

"Friend? Not husband. How does that make you feel?" The boy questioned as he looked up at Sherlock, licking his lips in order to stop the dry cotton feeling in his mouth. While Sherlock on the other hand had just looked at him. Unfazed by the question. "I'm not married to him. Just my work." The boy blinked, confused, as he heard the answer before he replied in a shy, reserved manner, "But…the way that you look at him... Your body faces his direction. Your clothes look like they were just brushed from your hand for when you walked in. Your voice goes down an octave-". "Here you go." The door opened and out came a tray and John Watson. On the tray was some water along with orange juice, and a bowl with apple sauce. Upon seeing the food the dark haired male smiled at the doctor as he took the tray to set it on his lap. "Thank you." The boy replied with his cheeks lighting up, his eyes dilating, and a soft but elated voice. Then he had grabbed the water to gulp it down to get the dry, cotton ball feeling out of his mouth while he grabbed the spoon. Once the water was done; he started on the food.


	3. Chapter 3

"You two are still here?" Came the disbelieved voice of Lestrade as he walked into the room along with Donovan. At this time John was sitting next to Sherlock, on the bedside of the young boy with a book in his hand while both Sherlock and the boy had a chess table out. The pieces were in mismatched places and John couldn't tell who was winning at this point but it looked like the young boy was surviving better than most people. Still Sherlock won the whole three times that they played, but the boy was surprisingly getting further for a boy his age. Sherlock picked up a piece to move it forward. "Yes. There is no reason for us to leave." Sherlock simply said and the boy smiled faintly as he didn't want anyone else except John and Sherlock to see that he had smiled. The dark haired male saw this and was honestly confused by it than finding it cute or flattering.

"Probably because you two shouldn't be around a trauma victim. Good God what you could of done to him." Donovan stated and Lestrade sighed. Turning to look over at the woman he gave her a look that he wasn't impressed with her response. The only reason he brought her here was for the questions that they were going to ask. Better do it in a hospital just in case some of the events trigger something in him. Lestrade thought, but if Donovan was just going to cause trouble he could try with just himself. The man then started to walk over to the child to set an arm on the boy's shoulder. Both the boy and John looked up at him to see what was going on then Lestrade finally sighed. "Hugh. Can we ask you a few questions? It's about the murder."

The boy's eyes widen and he looked frozen. Lestrade would of thought that something was wrong if the child didn't turn to look down at the chess pieces. Reaching over to touch the glass piece and knocking off Sherlock's knight. Quickly grabbing the knight between his fingers. Letting the smooth black paint calm himself down as he did the mundane. Repetition was a way to calm someone down and that was what he needed the most now when he had no one to care for him like a mother. The boy thought as he lowered and softened his eyes. He had no one. He repeated once to himself as he briefly thought this was a vacation as he played and talked to Sherlock and John. They were nice…Letting him for just a moment forget about what happened. Forget everything. Squeezing the piece beneath his small hands he nodded just as Lestrade was about to call the questions off.

"I'm going to have to talk about it one way or another." Hugh said with a faint laugh and upon hearing that John had stood up to touch Hugh's arm. Gently rubbing the boy's arm as he looked down at the dark haired male holding the chess piece like it was his mother's finger. Just twelve years old. John thought to himself as he couldn't imagine loosing everyone in his family at this time in his life. He is just a child that now has to deal with a new and lonely world. A world that was just ripped away from him because of one incident. John could relate to the boy and frankly would have been handling Lestrade differently. Being taken out of the war, the only thing that he knew to love, just to be placed in a world that was just him and a room. If it wasn't for Sherlock…it would have been a very dull and depressing life…as he turned to look over at the dark haired man that was watching the child.

Sherlock surprisingly understood the boy just as much as John. He could tell that John was thinking that the boy was going through something similar that John had went to but what Sherlock was thinking in the back of his mind was that he also knew what the boy was feeling like. Living in a world where he was all alone. The years that he lived without John, without his friends, without his life that he loved so much was the dullest, depressing time of his life. Ripped away from the world just because of…Some. Bad. Guy.

"My father just got home from work. My brothers and I just got home from school. Lily and Jane were downstairs with my mom as she was cooking dinner. Everything was fine as in my brothers and I were playing video games…I got to play winner. Sorry for the details but I'm trying to remember everything exactly…" Hugh stated as he was looking over to the window as he was spacing out, remembering what was happening in exact detail. "Today was odd though for my father. For the past months he just got home from work and didn't speak to any of us. He would just drink. But today was different as he was happy for once. He was dancing with Lily in his arms while my mom held Jane. My mom just called us downstairs for dinner was ready and that's when there were noises. Footsteps I suspect now because it sounded like a guy. Roughly tall, muscular was walking from coming out the downstairs bathroom. There was a scream from my mother as she was…the first one hit." Hugh was saying at a normal pace but after saying his last sentence he breathed out slowly. Catching his breath and remembering what happened to him. It was helpful though…the doctor's hand on his arm. He felt like…it was OK to repeat this…

"So I ran to a different room because I knew that something was going to happen. A sickening feeling. But then it was Jane. Then Lily. But he stopped with dad. They talked. Well yelled at each other but I can't make out the words…My brother were screaming so loudly because there was another guy that got in from the window. They took off running from the room to go downstairs while I just panicked. I was in a room with nothing to protect myself and no phone. Besides without the sound of a gunshot they wouldn't of come any quicker to protect myself. So I ran. I ran back into my room where the guy was gone because he chased after my brothers so I went behind the tipped over bed and to the trap door. I hit my head on the side as I pulled the latch down."

"And that's where I found you?" John questioned and Hugh had nodded as he turned up to look at the doctor. "Yeah. I stayed down there for three days because I didn't know if the guys had left or not. " Lestrade nodded as he turned to Donovan who had wrote down the story of the kid as he spoke and then he turned to look at the kid. "That was very good. You did much better than I expected you to do. But now here are some questions. Do you think you will be up to it? These might be harder or easier for you. Depending. Are you up for it?" Lestrade asked and Hugh nodded.

"Just get them over with." He repeated and Sherlock smiled slightly at the boy. Hugh was smart to get these questions just done with rather than holding information to himself. "You didn't see these men, correct?" "No. I just heard their footsteps. I can say they were big men and that is about it. Although…one was angry; the one that went after my brothers while the other seemed…like a psychopath…or something. His footsteps were off like he was going to come a dance. He was dancing…" Hugh repeated and Donovan copied the words down. "I know that doesn't help much but I was…scared." John looked down at the child and continued to rub his shoulder to let him know that it was OK…

"Being scared makes you loose important detail. Those emotions will get in the way and let the killers murder someone else. " Sherlock said bluntly and Hugh looked up at the man while everyone else in the room glared at him.

"How can you say that? You need to just get out of here. You shouldn't of been in here the first place." Donovan commented and John just put his hands in the air like he gave up on Sherlock again. "Sherlock, Anyone-." "I wasn't scared of the killers." Hugh stated in his shy voice as he stared at the other male. "I was scared that I would have to see everyone dead." He whispered and looked down at his hands as Sherlock moved a piece on the puzzle. "Just a life lesson. " Sherlock said and Hugh nodded.

"The man's name was Jerry. That was what my dad yelled out at the guy. The other was Blaine." Sherlock then leaned forward to pat Hugh's head…The dark haired boy blinked confusingly as then he realized. The insult was to make Hugh angry…angry to the point that he wanted to remember something distinctive about their traits. Something they could go on. That was…brilliant. Hugh thought for a moment before Sherlock turned to look over at Lestrade. "What did you want from me?" Sherlock questioned and Lestrade reached into his pocket to pull out a piece of paper with blood on it.

"This was found in the dead boy's mouth. The one we thought was Hugh." He stated and Sherlock opened it to see that it was blank. Then he flipped it over again and again to see that there was nothing but blood on it. "It's old style paper." He commented simple as he took Hugh's drink from before he started his story. Dipping his fingers in he dabbed the water on the paper. Slowly having black ink some to the surface. "What does it say?" John questioned just when Sherlock's eyes widen. Grabbing the boy and John he pulled them both to the ground while yelling, "Get down!" As he did so there was a loud bang. He pushed Hugh and John on to the floor while Donovan and Lestrade hit the ground. A huge explosion just put the building on fire while the piece of paper with the writing flapped in Sherlock's hands.

I will see to it that every last Cabret is dead.


	4. Chapter 4

"Police state that the burning in the hospital building has caused for the last family member of Cabret to be dead. The bomb that set it off had caused the boy to die instantly and police still have no idea who the murder is but are working hard-." The television program was shut off and Lestrade turned to look over at Hugh that was sitting in a chair. The dark haired male adjusted himself as he was being stared at by the silver haired male and he looked around the office. He could of started to make conversation about how he had still needed to find a place with someone instead of living here because it wasn't good for him. But Hugh knew that was not what Lestrade wanted this at the time and Hugh wasn't comfortable enough to say anything. In fact he didn't say anything to anyone for the past day as he was brought to the police station from Donovan's home. He hated it there…she wouldn't say anything to him. Just hand him pillows to sleep in the guest room. The only time she talked was when she was trying to fish out something about the killers from him. He hated it…he hated remembering.

"Hugh. We're going to need to put you into a protection program. This guy that is after you…means business and we won't allow you to die. So we will give you a new name…and you will live with probably Donovan for a while before going to a new officer for a while…then another…and another…" Lestrade said with a sigh as he took a sip of his coffee. It tasted bitter and he made a face that looked like he was in pain as he swallowed the liquid. "If you want, you can pick the name out. I see no harm in that." He said and Hugh looked up at him. His eyes were slightly red. "You…expect me to change my name and be a foster child to these officers…I loose my home, my family, and now my name…" His voice was cracking as he started to have tears fall down his soft cheeks.

"Is there not even my grandma I can stay with? Someone in my family I have never met? Or my dad's friend? Mom's?" He questioned as his nose started to run and Lestrade handed him a tissue. "I'm sorry…really I am. But we want to keep you safe and this is the best thing for you right now…" The boy then stood up and took off running out the office. Lestrade ran over to the hallway but when he looked back and forth…there was no one. Kicking the nearby waste basket he then put his hands on his hips. "Damn it." He whispered before walking over to some of his officers to tell them that Hugh was on the loose so to keep an eye out for him.

At this time though John and Sherlock had just entered the building when they saw a bunch of workers on their hands in knees to look for something. Sherlock sighed as he walked over to Lestrade who was standing there to watch the hallways and he was biting his lip in worry. "Looking for the kid?" He questioned and Lestrade nodded. "Yeah. He didn't take kindly to the thought of living with us." Sherlock chuckled as he rolled his sleeve up. "That would be my first reaction too." Lestrade put his hand down as he moved to stand in front of Sherlock. "Now you have the perfect time to get a sense of humor." Sherlock started walking straight while John followed. "Always had one, Lestrade." He called out as Sherlock walked over to the window to open it. As he opened the window he walked out on the fire escape with John following when John had quickly saw Hugh just sitting on the last step.

Seeing the boy he ran down to touch his shoulder gently. "Are you OK?" He questioned and Hugh turned to look at him with a few tears falling down his face. That was when John frowned and sat down next to him. "Must be rough…Dealing with these cops can get you like that." John stated as he turned to look at the boy. "They are good people just not the brightest." John commented as he tapped Hugh's forehead and the male looked away.

"That's an understatement really John. These people have about the brains of a rock." Sherlock said as he caught up to the two. He simply walked down to the two males before leaning against the railing of the old fire escape. "I just…" Hugh started. "I just don't want everything to be ripped away from me all at once. Going from home to home. Changing my name. I lost my identity and stability all in a matter of a few days from losing my family." Hugh said as he put his head between his knees and breathed deeply.

"Hugh…listen to me." John stated and the dark haired male looked up at the doctor. "A name is but a name. You are whoever you are. A name doesn't change your personality or how you feel. " Hugh nodded as he brought a hand up to wipe his eyes. "I know but it's the action. The thought that is getting to me." He said as he tapped his cheeks. "I am brilliant but like you said…emotions get in the way…" Hugh said as he turned to Sherlock and the dark haired male sighed.

"I said that in order for you to get angry. I didn't mean a word of it." Sherlock said as he bent his knees to stare directly into the male's eyes. "I used to believe that sentiment was for the losing side. That friends were for others were weak. But then I met a wise man…who said that in fact; friends and emotions made me stronger. I have faced countless people that have murdered and hacked into the government's systems. People that have done much worse than what they did to your family. " Sherlock said as he lowered his eyes. "Don't believe that emotions get in the way." He said and John couldn't help but stare up at Sherlock. Who was this man? John questioned as he didn't believe that Sherlock was being so…nice but then again…Sherlock was right. Have they gone this far? This far to see Sherlock believing that friends were not a sign of weakness? "Sherlock…" John whispered and the dark haired male stood up and looked away.

Hugh on the other hand had softened his eyes as he stared at his hand that was resting on the step. "You two are interesting…" Hugh commented just as Lestrade, Donovan, and Anderson ran around the corner and upon seeing them the boy had reached over to clutch on to John's jumper. "There you are! What were you thinking running off like that!" Donovan yelled at the boy and Hugh looked up at them. "I had to think...I don't want to live with any of you." The dark haired male said as he turned to look over at John then Sherlock before looking back at the officers.

"I want to live with them."


	5. Chapter 5

"This is not a good idea." Lestrade stated as he was sitting in his chair and Hugh was sitting outside of the area. Holding a toy that he was given by one of the officers; he slowly tilted the toy that was similar to Bumblebee from Transformers but there were a few parts missing. The black haired boy reached into his pocket to pull out a small screwdriver to start taking the screws out. "I agree with you whole heartedly. We are not fit to take care of him. Our house isn't safe to house him. Experiments going on and what not." John said as he didn't like the idea one bit of Hugh having to stay with them, but…there was also something that was in the back of his head. Leaving the kid to stay with all the police officers. Never settling down. Putting his hand on top of his forehead he looked down at the ground to sigh.

"But we have to think that this is a child we are dealing with. He can't just live with different people every week. Being a burden to everyone else; a home is what he needs." John enumerated the fact that Lestrade needed to think harder on his decision on where to put Hugh. If this was an adult or a teenager that was closer to the age of eighteen would that seem logical. Not some twelve-year-old that just lost everything. Hugh wouldn't be ready to just accept everything like that no matter how smart he was. He was a kid first. John thought as he turned to look over at Sherlock to see what he was doing. The dark haired male was staring out of the office to see Hugh opening up the toy and reassembling it into something completely different. Different from the normal transformer car as this kid seemed to want to make a new toy entirely. It was interesting. John was right about the kid being intelligent but it was being wasted in his youth. Perhaps…Sherlock thought as he was getting an idea brewing inside of his mind.

"There is not much that we can do though. There isn't some kind of officer that wants to take in a new kid at this time. The economy isn't doing well, people don't want to have kids, and there is always the possibility that the guy who is looking for him will kill the officer along with Hugh. No one wants to take that risk." Lestrade commented on as he sighed; putting a hand on his forehead as he looked down at the paperwork of Hugh Cabret. The three men sat in silence for a while as they were all trying to figure out some way for the boy to find a happy medium. "Let him live with us." Sherlock had finally said as both Lestrade and John looked up at the dark haired male. "No." John said out flatly. "We're not taking in a kid Sherlock. I'm not risking Hugh being screwed up in the head because you couldn't control yourself from an experiment. Nor the fact that you will probably say something that will really hurt him emotionally!" John shouted at the dark haired male but it was mostly for he wanted to believe himself that he didn't want Hugh to live with them. He wasn't father material. They weren't father material. They weren't parents, friends, nor guardians for any child. This would just not work out. John repeated while Sherlock had grabbed on to John's shoulders.

"John. Listen to me." Sherlock started. "He is a trauma victim. Everyone he knows and has ever loved is dead. There is not much more that I or you can do to screw him up more. He will live with Donovan, Anderson, Lestrade, every officer for one week for the whole year. Do you want him to live with us or them? Because I'm not waiting anymore in this silence for you two to consider the child's feelings when it is staring at us in the face what is best for him." The dark haired male explained towards John but also including Lestrade on the conversation. The blond haired male looked up at Sherlock to see what he was planning. This was strange even for Sherlock. Sherlock wasn't good with children. He told them bluntly what happens and he never thought of their feelings. Although Sherlock was right; if John and Lestrade continued to banter back and forth on nothing there would be nothing solved. The ex-soldier turned his attention over to Hugh who had just finished creating a new toy and was holding it in his hands. It was an automatic throwing paper toy and the more that John saw the longing, depressed, sorrowful look in Hugh's face from receiving no joy from the toy, the officers, the predicament he was in...He knew that he couldn't say no. "Fine…" John whispered.

"We'll adopt him. I'll take full action as to what Sherlock may or may not do to him." John stated as he walked over to Lestrade's desk where the silver haired male sighed. "You two are more than capable of keeping him but…if anything happens. We're taking him back. Anything that may result in further danger of Hugh we will come and take him." Lestrade said as he believed that would be a good agreement on the subject. There was a back-up for what would happen to the child but yet he would get what is probably one of the basic values for a kid. Stability. Lestrade thought as he pulled out Hugh's birth certificate along with a new certificate that the police were going to make. "We've already had it signed. We just need one of you two to sign for the father and I'll have Donovan sign for the mother. But the problem is what will we name him?" Lestrade stated and John turned to look over at Sherlock.

"I never thought I would have to pick out baby names with him." John commented and Sherlock had placed his hands into his pocket with a smirk. "Hamish. Hamish Watson-Holmes." The dark haired male said and John turned to look over at Holmes. "My middle name? Really?" John asked in disbelief and confusion as Sherlock only smiled at the other. "You did say that it was for a baby name a while ago."

"That was years ago. How could you possibly remember that but not Shakespeare?" John questioned but it was never answered as Lestrade had stood up. "That's a very nice you too but your lover spat will have to wait." Lestrade commented as he went to call in Hugh into his office. As he walked back in the child had followed suit and followed Lestrade over to his desk. "Hugh. You will be living with John Watson and Sherlock Holmes for now on but your name is not Hugh anymore. From now on you will be known as Hamish Watson-Holmes." Lestrade stated as he took the birth certificates and put them in a vanilla envelope. "Hamish? Why not Oliver or something?" Hamish questioned and Lestrade shrugged his shoulders. "Here's my card if you need me. But as I see for now…you are allowed to go off with them." Lestrade said and Hamish nodded as he took the card that was given to him. Putting it into his pocket he sat the toy on top of Lestrade's desk that fired a piece of paper on to Lestrade's chest.

"That's for the officer that will be wanting his toy back." Sherlock turned to walk out the door and John had saw that Sherlock wanted to leave so he leaned over to touch Hamish's shoulder. "We're leaving now." He said and the black haired male nodded in a slight way as he followed Sherlock and John out the door.

Entering outside John had stayed behind Sherlock with Hamish to talk to him more. "You don't have any clothes do you?" John questioned and Hamish nodded as he looked off to the side. Not saying a word nor really wanting to talk to the other. John was nice but there was something that the blond haired male was going to end up figuring out soon…and that was that Hamish liked to be alone. "Anything that you might need other than clothes?" John questioned and Hamish turned his attention to look at John. "Books…"


	6. Chapter 6

The first day that Hamish had arrived at 221B he had met with Mrs. Hudson. Still in her nice age she first questioned why John and Sherlock had adopted a kid and promptly followed them all upstairs to help the young child get settled in. Excited that there was someone that was so young being a part of the household now. Hamish didn't really think much of her as he took his first few steps into the flat. It was messy and just completely different from his home. His home had a lot of nice, expensive, materials littered around with nice clean white carpet and kitchen. A small house like everyone in London but the items they held inside them were what showed off their wealth; while probably the most expensive item in the Watson-Holmes family was the violin. This was strange. The young child thought to himself as he looked over at John who had automatically walked over to the dining table that had papers littered everywhere.

"If I knew you were coming home with us I would have cleaned up a bit." John stated as he chuckled to himself then looked over at the boy who was just looking at him with a slight dull expression. Honestly the child could care less as it was just a home and he did come unannounced. "I see." John stated as he looked back down at the papers and stacked them up as best as he can to push them over to the side. "Well. I guess I'll show you where your room is and then we can go out to get you whatever it is that you think you need." John said as he walked over to the stairs. Walking up he felt that Hamish or Hugh was judging the household because it wasn't kept up the same as the family's was. Although it was frankly that the child didn't care. He understood appearances very well and understood why John might be embarrassed but he was also still just a child.

"Here's your room." John then proceeded to open a door that lead to a very cluttered and small bedroom. It was used as storage for Sherlock and his odd hobbies. The room had a large bed that faced south and a window was high above it. Around the bed was around five to seven feet of space from the walls. Although the space was just filled with broken floorboards and what not. "Wow. This is a lot cleaner than what I expected." John said, while Hamish's eyes widen in terror, as the blonde walked into the room and started to pick up a few of Sherlock's things. A jar with a hand inside. A dead bug collection. A box that made a hiss noise. The list just went on as John was picking up some items.

"Clean? This is clean?" Hamish commented as he looked around the room then at John with a disbelieving face. What in the world? The dark haired male thought as he stared at the older man who in turn looked at Hamish with a smile. "I said cleaner. We were using this as a study. Now unless you want this to take forever I would say that you help me clean up." John said while Hamish took a step back to see a bunch of goo lying around his feet. What. What was this? Oh God, he didn't even want to know. Hamish thought as he closed his eyes and walked into the room, opening them as soon as he is into the room and past the goo.

After a few minutes as John was picking up the items and walked down the hall to a closet he began to place the items in there. While putting in another pile of stuff he was going to ask Sherlock if he could throw away. For the closet could not hold what all needed to go in there, nor could the attic, nor fridge. John thought as he sat a heavy box down only to walk in and see Hamish picking up just a few items in his hands. He was taking all the time in the world as he just didn't want to pick up any of the stuff. Although Hamish knew that this wasn't going to finish the job any faster but he was hoping that if he could keep this up than John would do most of the work. Besides, John could get it done faster...The dark haired male thought as he just continued to pick up small pieces that looked normal to put into his hands.

When John saw this though he walked into the room and stood behind the boy that was doing basically nothing. As soon as Hamish knew that the other was behind him his eyes widen as he knew that he was caught and he turned around to look at John who was just giving him a cold stare. "I'm not going to do all of this. I don't have to sleep in here." John stated and Hamish sighed before nodding. "I know. But I was never the one to pick up in the house because my parents would just be happy that we were playing with each other so they would pick up my brothers' and my mess." Hamish stated which made John's eyes widen than soften. He sighed before going to pick up most of the mess as he knew that this was a rough patch in Hamish's life. Damn it. He thought as he should have been more careful of what he said around the male.

After a couple hours of hauling items out into the open and finally getting the room clean, John had stepped back to admire all the work that was given. It was spotless and there were even two book shelves on each side of the bed. Grinning at his hard work, Hamish just stood up from his spot to dump a handful of dust into the bin before looking at John with a half-smile. "Nice work John." Hamish stated and the tone that he had…made John wonder. After a few seconds when Hamish was walking away John had ran over to the child. Grabbing his shoulder and turning him around to face him. Then John had gotten down on one knee to stare straight into Hamish's eyes.

"Hu-Hamish. Did you just lie to me in order for me to do the work?" John questioned and Hamish looked away from the other. "You did it on your own accord." Hamish commented and John shook the other's side in order to get Hamish to look at him again. "Listen to me Hu-Hamish. You are a brilliant kid. Don't use it against people like that or else you will find yourself without having any people to care about you. Without any friends. People don't like people who are mean and manipulative to them." John commented only to have Hamish lower his eyes.

"Who said I wanted to have friends? I'm perfectly fine being alone in life. Without caring about anyone or anyone to care about me." Hamish said and John sighed. Looking away from the child. "It's not about what you want. It's about the principal and moral that you should be nice and caring towards other people. Because I'm sure that with your brilliant mind we could have figured out a way to cut down the time on this in half." John said; only Hamish looked towards the side again as he didn't want to look into John's disappointed eyes. He, after all, wanted to live here and John was being nice and letting him, yet this was how he repaid them…Hamish thought as he softened his eyes the thought of him being alone down in the room made him realize just how much his own words hurt him. He loved to be alone but…the way that he lived was just utterly loathsome. Knowing that no one cared about him. Knowing that if he died right there, he wouldn't have been able to care about anyone else. Knowing that he wouldn't have been able to stop the monster that killed his family from saving others.

"John." Hamish whispered and John looked at the other. Placing a hand on his cheek only to have Hamish kept his eyes fixed on the ground. "I've lied twice to you. I don't want to live without caring about anyone." Hamish whispered and John reached over to hug the child.

"You won't. I care about you." John said as he hugged the other tighter. He had to learn to watch what he said around the other as this time it seemed that Hamish was telling the truth that he didn't want this to happen. Hamish just stood still as he didn't know what to do as the other hugged him. Yes his sister hugged him but even then he didn't understand how to hug someone back. It was just awkward to him to be hugged and hug others. His family didn't overly hug him except his sister, so he never understood how to.

Just then there was the sound of footsteps and there appeared Sherlock with his hands in his pocket. He looked down at the child and John hugging with a blank expression. As that happened though John turned to look up at Sherlock and then stood up. "Do you need anything?" John questioned and Sherlock just smiled. "I want to teach him to play the violin." The dark haired male said and John's eyes widen as he was a bit taken back from Sherlock wanting to do anything with the kid. Although he didn't question it or else Sherlock might take back his offer. Little did he know as to what Sherlock was up to. Hamish and John both didn't know. The blonde haired male then looked down at Hamish as the other looked up at him. Locking eyes for a minute.

"Do you want to learn the violin while I go out to get you some clothes?" John questioned and Hamish shrugged his shoulders. "Sure. My shirt size is small and size 36 pants." John nodded as he ten looked at Sherlock. "Well. I guess I'll be off then. I have my mobile." The man said as he walked downstairs to grab his phone. Both of the others followed as Sherlock watched as John hurried to grab his things and making sure that he had everything. He smiled at Sherlock before walking towards the door and opening it. Sherlock's eyes transfixed on the other until he left. Once John left, he left Sherlock and Hamish to just stare at each other in awkward silence. Just until Sherlock turned to walk down towards the window where he typically played the violin. "You have played the violin for a while now. Am I correct?" Sherlock questioned and Hamish nodded.

"Why haven't you told John your feelings?" Hamish questioned as he picked up the violin and looked at the sheet music that Sherlock had out for him to play. It was simple to read but for Hamish it was rather difficult because his fingers weren't slender enough to play the violin. "John is my friend. That is it. You are assuming that I have romantic feelings for John when I have no desire to be with another person in that specific relationship. I am married to my work and that is simply the end of my attraction and relationships toward anyone." Hamish started to play the violin but after a few chords it made an ear sketching sound. "No, no. That's an E, not an F. You hit it completely wrong." Hamish had lowered the violin to glare at the other. "I know where I went wrong. I've been playing for two years." Hamish said as he went back to practising the piece of work.

"You are lying to yourself." Hamish said as he started to play the piece at a slower rate in order to read the music more carefully.


	7. Chapter 7

"So, how is it going with the boy?" Came from the voice of the fairly shy woman named Molly. She had leaned over to hand John a cup of coffee as he leaned against the counter as he held the mug. He took a sip of the coffee before the realization that it was rather hot and had sat it down next to him. "He's doing well. Really well." John replied as he then shook his head and looked over at the woman that was stirring her cream into the coffee. "Horrible actually." John muttered before he had started to pace.

"He mostly just stays in his room reading those books. I always try to talk to him after he comes home from school but he just doesn't have much to say. Just goes directly to his room to read his books. Doesn't help though that Sherlock doesn't want him watching cartoons on the telly. Saying that they are fairly illogical and he shouldn't waste his time with that." John ranted before putting his elbows on the counter and leaning over. Reaching up he ran a hand through his hair before closing his eyes and sighing. "Not to mention Sherlock has been acting odd. He will force Hamish out of the room and make him play the violin and learn about chemistry sets. The poor boy doesn't stop learning from the time Sherlock gets home to the time I force Sherlock to put him to bed." John said with a sigh before clasping his hands.

"It's not proper for a boy to grow up in this kind of environment. Always learning. Always being told what to do. He needs to have some fun." John stated before turning around to lean against the counter again as he looked at Molly who was nodding. She then looked away before smiling at the army doctor. "What about a family night? Like playing a game of clue or something?" Molly questioned and John at first smiled slightly before breaking out into a laugh. "A game? With Sherlock? The Sherlock Holmes." John stated before chuckling again. Putting his hands out before slapping them against his thighs. "I could just picture him cheating all the time. Calculating how the dice will fall in order to get park place." John said and Molly had frowned.

"It's a suggestion. Be-Besides. You don't know until you try it." The woman said just as Sherlock and Hamish had opened the door and walked in. Sherlock was holding up his cell phone while Hamish had walked directly over to John. "I've seen more things than I ever wanted to." He stated plainly as John just reached over to pat the boy on the head. "Alright Molly, tell me when the blisters start forming as soon as possible." Sherlock stated before putting his phone back into his pocket. "John. We can go now. Besides I think it's time for Hamish's violin lessons." The dark haired male said as he put on his coat and turned to leave. Walking down the hallway while John and Hamish stood there.

"John. I don't want to learn more about the violin. I never liked it when my parents forced me to play and I certainly don't like it now." Hamish said as he turned around to look at John who just frowned. The boy wasn't at all like Sherlock. He was intelligent alright but he didn't use it in the same way as Sherlock. Instead he had just built inventions. Great inventions actually, John thought as he grabbed his coat to put around him. "Come on. It'll be good for you. I wish I knew how to play and instrument well." John said and Hamish just lowered his eyes. "I know how to play more than one." Hamish commented before walking out the door to follow Sherlock. Leaving John to groan in irritation before looking at Molly.

"It's having Sherlock and his child-like version." Molly said and John rose an eyebrow. "No. He is a lot more emotional than Sherlock and he isn't driven like Sherlock. Hamish is more…arrogant." Molly smiled. "I thought that was what Sherlock would have been like as a kid?" John blinked confusingly before looking away. "Maybe…He was imaginative. Wanted to be a pirate." The blond said before heading out with the rest of his family. While an idea was forming in his head as he had climbed into the cab with the other two.

Once at home, the two dark haired males had went to go into separate rooms before John had reached over to grab both of their arms. Sherlock's eyes widen as he was caught off guard by the fact that John had pulled him over to the table where he was sat down. Looking up at the male that was standing over the table in a huff gave cue for the smaller male to also look up at the blond haired male. John then put his hands out as he turned to walk over to the closet. "No. No. No. We are going to start acting like a family. We're not going to do our own thing. No experiments. No inventions. No spying on the nice couple across the street and no reading." John said as he opened the closet to look up at the shelves. Grabbing a large rectangle box he brought it down towards the two.

"We're going to play a board game. Monopoly." John stated as he sat the game down and the two men just stared at John. Hamish looking utterly bored at the game while Sherlock had ended up putting his hands up. Setting the fingertips side by side. "Alright. I'll play." The dark haired male said and Hamish just groaned at the anticipation of what was going to happen.

It wasn't long before John had realized why Hamish didn't want to play the game in the first place. As there was sitting an angry and confused Sherlock as he sat in his chair with his feet on top of the chair. Crouching like a bird as John was holding most of the money, Hamish was sitting with most of the property while Sherlock was sitting in jail. The light blue haze of the setting sun had turned into the dark and eerie night. The lights were turned on and both John and Hamish were looking bored out of their mind. "Sherlock. We can't keep this up…" John commented as he pressed a hand against his temple.

"John. It's almost midnight. I have school in the morning." Hamish said as he looked over at the clock on the wall before back at John whose eyes widen. "Really it's been that long? I don't remember this game lasting this long…" He said and Sherlock just gave a low hum in his voice. "It doesn't matter how long it takes. What matters is that we are staying to finish this game. Hamish you won't go to school tomorrow. I teach you more than any of those so-called professionals teach you. Besides all they are doing is damaging my work on you." The boy then glared at the male before pushing back in the chair. It skidded across the ground before he turned to walk up towards his bedroom.

"Hamish! He didn't mean it like that!" John called out as he ran over to the bedroom but it was shut in his face. The blond haired male placed a hand on top of the door before sliding it down as his eyes glanced at the bottom of the door. He sighed before having his back tense as he heard Sherlock knocking over some of the figures in order to get to Hamish's pieces. He was picking them which made John glare at the male. Walking over to Hamish's chair he placed his hands on top of the back.

"Sherlock. Do you…do you even understand what you just said to him?" John questioned as the dark haired male stopped for a moment to look up at John. "Of course I understand what I said to him." He stated calmly before breathing through his nose and leaning in his chair. "You're upset because I told him that I was using him for learning purposes." John nodded. "Well yes. Yes I am. You just told a twelve year old kid that he is just your walking experiment!" The blond yelled as his arms flew up and Sherlock stood up. Leaving all the game pieces as they were as he reached to his suit to smooth it out.

"It wasn't that he didn't know what was going on. You're just upset because you found out." John's eyes widen as he took a step back from the male before lowering his eyes. "Sherlock. He's smart but in no way is he as smart as you. He-." "Well that part is obvious John. He barely knows the chemical substances and him playing the violin is horrid. You should be here too when all he is interested in is those lousy, non-sense fantasy books." "Sherlock!" John yelled as he walked over to his friend. Placing his hands on either side of Sherlock's cheeks to force the male to stare at him. "He's not an experiment Sherlock." John said faintly as he lowered his hands to turn to walk towards his room.

While Sherlock was left to stand there in the living room. Reaching up to touch his cheek that was warm from the heat produced by John's hands. As he touched it he then bundled his hand into a fist. Bringing the hand down he walked towards his bedroom. His mind on a track as he wasn't going to think about John's words to him about Hamish but most of all was the thought of John's hands. He wasn't. This was a time for him to feel angry and rage at the nerve of John telling him that he shouldn't do this to Hamish.

While on the other side of the equation there was Hamish who was sitting in his room. A small strobe light on the ground was lighting up his room as he changed into some oversized pajamas. Sliding his frame into the clothes he reached down to grab a hardcover book on the ground to place it on the night stand. He then got into his bed with the large comforter. Turning to the side of the bed he pulled on a string that was attached to the ceiling. Grabbing the string he tugged on it which made the lights in his room turn off but also released a light that changed its colours to different cool shades. It danced on top of his ceiling while small bubbles were being released.

The male's azure eyes were half closed as he stared at the wall and as he stared at the wall for a longer period of time…a tear ran down his face. His eyes becoming instantly red but there was nothing more than two tears that ran down his face. Shutting his eyes he reached under his pillow to grab a small dragon plush toy. Holding it close there was a small blood stain at the tip of it's ear but he didn't care in the least bit.


	8. Chapter 8

"Is this death related to any of the others that have been going on?" Came the voice of the silver haired male as he looked over at the dead body that was laying on the pavement. The cold air lingered as Sherlock's breath was clear as day as he focused on the body. Puncture wounds on his neck by a left handed man who came at him from the back. His shoes were slightly muddy but the look on his face told him everything.

"No. This has nothing to do with the Cabert case." Sherlock said firmly as he looked over at the body and sighed as he stood up straight. "This case is just a simple murder. Obviously the guy was a gambler who owed a debt. He couldn't pay his debt so he was stabbed in the neck." Sherlock stated as he then put his hands into his pocket to turn around to leave. Meanwhile, Lestrade was looking over at the body before turning his attention towards Sherlock.

"So how is he doing? Hu-Hamish that is." Lestrade corrected himself as he stared at Sherlock's back. His voice quivered slightly as he then saw Sherlock turn around to narrow his eyes at the other male but he didn't show any more than that discomfort. "He sits in his room all day. He won't come down until I force him down to practice the violin." He stated firmly before walking down the stairs at a faster pace as he didn't want to talk to Lestrade anymore about this. He knew the next lines that were going to come out from the silver haired male's voice.

"He just sits in his room and you just let him?" Lestrade questioned and Sherlock pulled up the caution tape before looking over to see John coming out from a taxi. He ran over towards Sherlock with a pant before looking at Lestrade. Nodding towards him before giving his attention back to Sherlock.

"What did you want? I got your text but I believe Hamish fell ill." John started out as he reached into his pocket to pull out his cell phone only to have Sherlock grab on to John's wrist. John's eyes widen as he looked into Sherlock's eyes and saw…the jealously? Fury? That was held inside the male's eyes. "I sent you that text two hours ago. I needed it then." Sherlock said as he let go of John's wrist as he was only holding it to grab the attention of the blond.

"You said to come to you because there was a crime! Hamish was sick so I had to pick him up from school then go to the doctor's then put him to bed so I am sorry that I couldn't run all the way here to give you my phone." John explained as he took a step back from Sherlock. No. He was not in the wrong here. The blond thought as he wasn't going to get yelled at by Sherlock because of this. No. He had worked too hard today that all he wanted to do was sit down at home and just relax, but no he wasn't going to be able to do that either as he had to take care of Hamish because pigs would fly before Sherlock Holmes would take care of the kid.

"This is my job. Our job. This is what we do and I expect you to be prompt. You would of came here normally without that kid." This time it was John's turn to narrow his eyes, but as he just took a glance he saw that Lestrade was staring at them. He was confused and wondering what was going on. They didn't need to fight here. John thought as he turned around to head towards the cab that was patiently waiting for them. "We'll talk about this at home." John said firmly in a voice that made Sherlock knew that he was getting ready for a fight.

Neither were afraid as they entered the cab and were driven home. Instead they were thinking of everything that each other had done to the other. John was thinking about how Sherlock had agreed to having Hamish, he knew that it was just an experiment for Sherlock, he knew that Sherlock didn't care for Hamish when that was what Hamish needed, he also knew that Sherlock was hating the fact that Hamish was taking up more of his time.

While on the other side, Sherlock was thinking about ways to make John sound like a fool. He had grown too attached to Hamish because logically Hamish didn't need to go to the doctor, he was using Hamish to fulfill John's biological needs, that Hamish wasn't even a child as he was acting like a robot around the house.

Their feelings were building as the two sat in the cab. Their shoulders pressed against each other doors and their arms were crossed as they took a deep breath. Breathing in and out their anger was building up to the boiling point. Just then the cab had stopped which meant that Sherlock had to pay as John bolted as quickly as he could towards the door. Sherlock took out his wallet to thrust the money into the cab's hands and he bolted out the cab.

As John was the first to enter the building he had first quickly took off his shoes and jacket. "Hamish. Hamish." He called out as he turned around the corner to see if Hamish was anywhere in sight. After a quick scan of watching out for the boy he had then stopped to roll up his sleeve as Sherlock entered into the flat. His movement had went from the fury of a twelve year old boy to a grown man that was trying to be calm and intimidate John.

Sherlock's eyes glared over at John's while John's eyes were narrowing at Sherlock.

"You are using him to fulfill your petty biological clock." Sherlock said first while John had let a low growl escape his mouth.

"I am using him?! Says the man that is practically forcing the poor boy to be exactly like you!" John yelled at the male which only made Sherlock take a step closer to John. Using his body language and skills to just irritate John more. He wasn't going to act as angry nor upset about the situation as that was how he was going to win.

"He's smart. Or so I thought. So yes, I thought that the experiment would go well as I tried to bring him up like me. Which is not an awful thing to do. I fail to see your side of the argument where my idea is worse than yours' as you don't even realize that you don't have feelings for him or at least any true ones. I express my feelings clear while you are just pretending to be nice to him. Pretending to be a father." Sherlock theorized which made John reach over to grab his own hair.

"That is just ridiculous! I actually care about the boy and what he wants! If you actually noticed you would see that I take care of him, I listen to him, I know what he likes and dislikes." John commented but Sherlock smirked.

"But you don't actually care for him because if you did you would just say that he was your son." Sherlock said and that made John take a step closer towards Sherlock. Reaching up to grab on to Sherlock's collar to pull him down towards his level.

"I care about that boy." John said through his teeth while Sherlock had left the thoughts of Hamish behind as he looked down at John's mouth that was twitching from the frustration that the ex-army soldier was having. He saw the lines that were growing on John's aging face. He saw the tired look in John's eyes, and the spark that was fading away in the blue orbs.

"Is he just a boy to you?" Sherlock whispered and John released Sherlock. His fingers slowly loosing grip of Sherlock's clothes before he looked towards the floor but he did not move from the gap away from the other. The heat that was slightly rising off from Sherlock was touching him gently, and at this moment that was what he needed for the thoughts were rising to the male's head. Sherlock was right in a way. He was treating Hamish as if he was a chore rather than a son. Sherlock might have been treating him as an experiment but he himself was treating the male as if he was just another burden. How…how could he have been so stupid to not realize that he was doing that? John thought to himself as he placed a hand on top of his mouth.

Reaching over Sherlock had placed his hand across John's back and on his shoulder.

Neither one of them heard the slight footstep on the staircase as they were lost in their own little worlds. Their own worlds that revolved around themselves, and that had no business of a young boy being in it. The young boy thought as he turned to look at the window at the top of the stairs. Walking silently up the stairs the male had stood at the top. Walking into the moonlight to look down at the window where an open dumpster laid.

His blue eyes were emotionless.

Unlocking the hinge of the window the dark haired male had put his bare foot on the wooden frame only to fall out of the window. Rolling on to his side he fell into the dumpster on some garbage. He didn't even make a noise as he stood up to pull himself out the garbage and down on to his small feet that touched the cold stone of the street. Taking a few steps back he looked up at the window that he had just fell from.

Turning to the left, turning to the right the male had started to walk down the right side of the alley. Reaching up he wrapped his arms around his chest as the cold night air had hit his pale skin, and bursting through the thin fabric of his white clothes. His head bent towards the ground as his hair flew towards the side while the young boy had a single tear roll down his cheek before the rest started to flow.

_Who could love someone like me._


End file.
